By Gregory Jordan (Twenty-Third Publications, 2014)
Do you ever wonder who this century’s Mother Teresa and Father Damien are—and where on this sorry planet they’re serving the most desperate needs? Meet Father Kevin Mullins and the parishioners who sustain his work in Juárez, Mexico. “Work” here goes beyond serving destitute people with scant resources. After a mass slaughter of 20 boys, Mullins must sweep brains from the victims’ foreheads to administer last rites. Where funerals are routinely disrupted by machine gun fire, this pastor says four of them in one morning.
Missionaries in Juárez face challenges unknown to Mother Teresa or St. Damien: Their lives are in constant danger, and they’re harassed—even during Mass—by Protestant cult members who consider them satanic. Pervasive violence toward women and girls is often fatal in this godforsaken place; beheadings are common; even the cops report to the drug lords.
This saintly priest is flawed, often angry. His adjustments to Mexican Catholic culture are plodding. He disobeys his superior’s transfer order. His tobacco addiction probably reduces his chance of succumbing to murder by 50 percent—making lung disease equally likely. Yet he is beloved in his Juárez parish.
American Catholics—from cafeteria to charismatic—will find much to ponder. Widely different views of church and ministry are easily integrated in Juárez, where hopeful faith is itself a blessing. Mullins hires lapsed-Catholic Reyna, who then often mentors him, in a rare female-clergy alliance. The roles of beauty and hospitality in worship, faith, survival, and even justice also shine more clearly here.
Whether or not you agree with Mullins that the saints are all of us, wherever we are, I guarantee this book will broaden your thinking and move you to do a good deed—perhaps praying for his work, perhaps more. But don’t take my word. Read this book.
This review appeared in the December 2014 issue of U.S. Catholic (Vol. 79, No. 12, page 43).
Add comment